


Bad Things

by madamebomb



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Zuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:12:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5009533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamebomb/pseuds/madamebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bitter memory is not the only thing between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Things

“What about the tablecloths? Which color do you prefer, ma'am?”

Mai sighed and glanced at the swatches the wedding planner was holding in front of her. Her lips twisted a bit. “They look the same to me.”

“Yes, but which one do you prefer?” he insisted.

“I don’t care. Zuko?” Mai turned her head in Zuko’s direction, starting him out of his daydream. At the sound of his name, he swallowed, sitting up straight in his chair.

“What?”

“These swatches? Which do you prefer?”

“For what?”

“The tablecloths, apparently,” Mai drawled, twitching her wrist in the direction of the wedding planner.

“Uh…whatever you like? I don’t know,” he mumbled, feeling Mai’s exasperated gaze on him, and not for the first time that afternoon. He’d been lost in his thoughts a lot lately, and she’d begun to notice how withdrawn he’d been. He cleared his throat and then leaned forward. “Uh…the gold one? With the trim?”

“An excellent choice, sire. Ma'am?”

“Fine. Whatever,” Mai said. “Are we done here?”

“Yes, ma'am. You have the fitting for your wedding dress tomorrow afternoon, and a sampling of the menu you’ve selected at dinner.”

Mai nodded, peering at Zuko from beneath her heavy black fringe. There was a certain hardness to her mouth that Zuko didn’t like in the slightest. She’d definitely noticed his lack of enthusiasm. A nervous flutter caught in his stomach and soured his mouth. He took a drink of the lukewarm tea sitting at his elbow, draining the cup.

When he lowered it, the wedding planner and his helpers were leaving the room with their army of swatches, flowers, beads and the large diagram of seating arrangements. Zuko was glad to see the back of him. Planning a wedding was exhausting and entirely too involved for his taste.

The door closed, leaving him and Mai in strained silence.

He stared at the tea leaves at the bottom of his cup, trying to find a pattern in it, some sense in the chaos, but as usual, he was adrift, lost in it all.

“You could at least pretend you care,” Mai said in a low, icy voice. He glanced up from his teacup, meeting her gaze. He quickly looked away again; it had been nearly impossible to look her directly in the face for weeks now.

He was afraid she’d see it, his guilt, the truth blaring across his face as ugly and impossible to miss as his scar.

“I care, it’s just boring. Picking out swatches for tablecloths and choosing the right kind of flower so as not to offend the guests or whatever is just not my idea of stimulating, Mai.”

“It’s not exactly my cup of tea, either, but it’s our wedding. At least pretend you wanna be here,” she shot at him, standing fluidly. Her fists clenched at her sides and he sensed that there was a tirade of words begging to tip off of her tongue and lash him.

“I wanna be here,” he mumbled. Because he did. He did. He was marrying the woman he loved. He’d asked her to marry him and it was happening and he was supposed to be happy…wasn’t he?

Instead he just felt numb and guilty…and there was this squeezing feeling in his chest, like he was trapped in a cage.

“Really? Because ever since you got back from your trip to Ba Sing Se, I get the feeling you don’t really want to be here,” Mai said, glaring at him. He looked up and forced himself to meet her gaze. “You’ve been really distant lately. What’s your problem?”

Zuko put his teacup aside and stood, walking over to her. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Nothing. It’s just wedding jitters. I’m nervous, I guess.”

Mai studied his face, as if she could hear the lie in his voice. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m just not good with this stuff, and it kind of overwhelms me. Sorry if I’ve been distant.”

Mai took a breath and then nodded, though she looked as unconvinced by his words as he felt. “I just want to make sure this is something you want to do.”

“Of course it is.”

“Good–” Mai started, but stopped when a knock sounded on the door. She let out an exasperated breath and turned toward the door. “Yes? What is it?”

“Umm…It’s Suki! May I come in?”

Zuko’s heart immediately skipped a beat, followed by a rush of blood to his head that made everything around him seem unreal for a moment. He tried to make his face neutral, as memories cascaded across his mind in a confusing jumble of lust and warmth. Guilt immediately followed, squeezing his lurching heart as his whole body broke out into a sweat.

Mai’s gaze flicked to him and then back to the door. Her head tilted back and then she called, “Come in!”

The door immediately cracked open, and a familiar head of ruddy brown hair peeked in at them, followed by the rest of her. The Captain of his guard closed the door behind her and stood at attention before them. She glanced from Zuko to Mai and back again, her painted face a blank mask.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mai, but I was hoping to speak to Zuko alone. If…if you don’t mind?”

“Is there a problem?” Mai asked as Zuko’s tongue tied itself into knots.

Suki’s lips pressed into a thin line and then softened into a determined expression. Her gaze landed somewhere past Mai’s left shoulder. “No, I just… I… I…umm…it’s about a private matter.”

Mai’s eyebrows furrowed and she glanced at Zuko, who tried to school his expression into a blank mask like Suki’s. He had a feeling he came up well short, because there was a suspicious glimmer in Mai’s dark eyes that pierced right through him like a needle.

“Private?” Zuko said, the word nearly tangling in his mouth.

“Yes. And it can’t wait, I’m sorry,” Suki said a bit breathlessly. He noticed suddenly the way her closed fingers were bouncing against her long green skirt. He also noticed the scroll in her other hand, and the way she was clutching it hard enough to crush it in half.

“Right. Mai, if you’ll excuse us?” Zuko said, putting his hand on her lower back. Mai’s face hardened and she resisted for a moment, then capitulated, allowing him to lead her toward the door. Suki looked down at the floor as they passed.

“Zuko–” Mai started, but he cut her off with a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” he said, forcing a tight-lipped smile that felt as fake as it probably looked.

Mai’s expression darkened and she glanced at Suki. “I hope everything is okay, Suki.”

“Uh…” Suki started, but stopped herself. Zuko caught Mai’s gaze with a pleading expression of his own.

“Dinner?”

Mai nodded. “Yeah. See you then.”

“Bye,” he said and kissed her lips quickly. Then he stepped back, and gently shut the door. He waited for a moment and listened as her light footsteps echoed off down the marble corridor. Zuko put his hand on the door, closing his eyes to steel himself.

A cavalcade of emotion rushed through him, each one more confusing than the last. He caught the scent of Suki’s perfume and felt heat spark in his chest and circle lower, reminding him all too well of things best left in Ba Sing Se.

He’d tried very hard not to bring those things home with him, but the truth clung to him like perfume, invading every pore and cell of his body, filling him with guilt and want, anxiety and need, and an inescapable feeling that nothing would ever be the same again.

“Is she okay?” Suki asked lightly.

Zuko pressed his forehead to the cool oak door. “She thinks I’ve been distant lately.”

When Suki didn’t respond, he pushed himself away from the door and turned to face her. Looking at her was no less devastating than when she’d first come into the room. Nervous flutters burst to life in his stomach and remembered the sound of her laughter as she lay beneath him, her skin sticking to his, her fingers in his hair….

He forced himself to focus, and saw the emotion dawning in Suki’s gaze. He knew what she was remembering too, and knew also, from the way her body shook, that she felt just as guilty as he did about that night.

“ _This was wrong, Zuko,” Suki said as she lay her head on his chest. He stroked his hands through her hair, staring up at the shadows the candles threw at the corners. Everything felt soft and warm, perfect and exciting… And yet…_

“ _I know,” he whispered, the guilt rising in him like a tide of bitter blood._

“ _It was stupid and selfish.”_

“ _I know.”_

“ _You’re engaged,” she said, lifting her head. Her voice was thick with tears, and her eyes were glistening._

_He cupped her cheek, thumbs brushing back her tears. “I know.”_

“ _You love her.”_

_He just stared at her, unable to say the words. “Suki…”_

_Suki pulled away from him, shooting out of the bed and snatching up her clothing. She was out the door before he could stop her. He didn’t even know if he should have. And if he had, what would he have done? What could he have said?_

“ _Have_ you been distant?” she asked lightly, her words shaking a little. Zuko licked his lips and walked forward a little. Suki’s whole body stiffened and he stopped.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

His gaze met hers, topaz to dark blue, burning hot and naked with emotion. “You know why.”

Suki’s blank expression crumpled in on itself and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “I know. That’s why I needed to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

Suki’s arm lifted, stiff and trembling a little. Her voice quaked as she thrust the crushed scroll in his direction. “My resignation, Fire Lord Zuko. As of today, I hereby resign my post as the Captain of your guard.” He took the scroll with numb fingers, disbelief causing him to practically rip it open. He scanned the document and looked up at her in shock. “I’ve named Ty Lee as my successor. I’m sure she’ll do an admirable job.”

“What? Why are you resigning? Suki,” he started, bending to catch her gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

Suki turned wet eyes on him, and he saw that she was trembling, on the edge of tears. “You know why.”

Zuko stared at her for a long moment and then he let out a breath. “I don’t want you to quit.”

“It’s not up to you. This is my decision.”

“It’s the wrong one!” he burst out, tossing the scroll aside. He felt stunned, his footing lost and his equilibrium off. Everything around him seemed unreal again, all but her. All of his attention was on the woman before him. The thought of losing her made the squeezing sensation in chest amplify. He fought the urge to capture her, to hold her tight against him. He knew what it would feel like, how her body would fit to his like it belonged there, and he wanted desperately to feel that feeling again, before he lost it forever. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going home to Kyoshi Island,” Suki answered.

“You’re _leaving?_ ” It felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath him.

“I can’t stay here, Zuko. I _can’t_. I can’t even _look_ at you without remembering… It’s just too much. Pain and guilt and… I can’t _do this_ every day. I thought I could. I was wrong. I’m always wrong when it comes to you and I can’t do it anymore,” she said tightly, her voice shattering, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She brushed it away, smearing the white paint across her gloves. “I messed everything up.”

He reached out, grasping her hands before she could pull away. “No, you didn’t. It was me, Suki. I knew what I was doing that night. I shouldn’t have…but I did.”

“We did bad things, Zuko. The both of us. And we need to deal with the consequences of that. I can’t keep pretending that I…” She stopped and lowered her head.

“That you what?” he prompted.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, lifting her head. There was a little smile on her face, all bitter, all sadness and despair. “It never did.”

“It matters to me,” he said with heat in his voice, gazing at her, pulling her hands to his chest. “It matters to me, Suki.”

“It didn’t that night. Why should it now?” she shot at him, and then looked like she regretted the words. She pulled her hands away from his.

“It mattered to me then, too. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I still don’t, Suki.”

“You love her.”

“Do I?” he said, the question bursting to life within him for the first time. He’d never dared to ask it before, afraid of what it might mean. Afraid of everything. He caught her hands again. “ _Do I_ , Suki?”

“You’re marrying her.”

“I cheated on her. I can’t stop thinking about _you._ ”

Suki nodded. “That’s why I have to leave, Zuko. I can’t be the other woman. Even if we never sleep together again, there’s always going to be this secret between us. I can’t live with that, Zuko. I can’t see Mai every day and know what I’ve done to her. Mai doesn’t deserve that…and I think you should tell her.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“She already suspects something, Zuko, and you know it. Every time I walk into a room, she gets a little closer to the truth. You’re already hurting her and if you love her enough to marry her, then you should tell her the truth.”

Zuko tightened his jaw and allowed himself to voice his doubts aloud for the first time. “What if I don’t want to marry her? What if I want to be with you?”

“Then let me make it easy on you, Zuko.” Both of their heads snapped toward the snarl that had come from the doorway. The door banged against the wall, with Mai framed in the doorway, her eyes practically glowing with rage. “You don’t want to marry me, you cheating piece of shit? Fine. The wedding’s off.”

“Mai!” he started, fear sinking down his back like an ice cube.

“How long were you…?” Suki asked, looking sick.

“I heard _everything_ ,” Mai snapped, walking into the room. Her shoulders were rigid, her chin tilted. “I knew something had happened between the two of you. _I knew it._ ”

“Mai…” he started, but she wheeled on him. The expression on her face was of pure disgust and a hurt  and heartbreak that went deeper than words, deeper than anything he’d ever seen. “Mai, I’m sorry…”

“Fuck you, Zuko,” Mai said, taking off her ring. She tossed it at his head with deadly accuracy, and then she was gone as abruptly as she’d appeared, leaving he and Suki standing in the room with the echo of her voice.

Suki wiped at her eyes. “You should go after her.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly.

“Why not?”

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. There was regret there, guilt, pain, but the truth. No more hiding it.

He swallowed, and reached out, taking her hand. “You know why.”

_(end)_


End file.
